


The Apartments

by Steveuschrist



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baby BatJokes, Batjokes, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne is Batman, DW J and B are ok, Emotional Hurt, Emotionally Repressed, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gay Science Husbands, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jeremiah is bad with social stuff, M/M, Mind the Tags, Wayleska - Freeform, big yikes, but it makes more sense if you read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 01:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17736689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steveuschrist/pseuds/Steveuschrist
Summary: Jeremiah loves Bruce. Bruce loves Jeremiah.Life should be simple for them, right?





	The Apartments

**Author's Note:**

> This took way too long.

Bruce took a shaky breath, the hot water from his shower hitting his back, wetting his hair.

It was just a normal shower. Everything was fine. He was fine.

He felt like he would collapse at any moment, like he was being suffocated, but he also felt light. He had the shower turned up, and when he looked at his skin after putting the shampoo in his hair he figured it must’ve been pretty hot, though he could barely feel it.

He cleaned himself up, washing away sweat and dirt. He peeled off the bandage on his abdomen, hissing softly as he washed that injury. It was healing well, at least.

He rinsed himself off, stepping out of the shower and grabbing his towel. He made an attempt to dry his hair first, quickly deciding that he would let it dry while he slept instead.

Bruce toweled off his shoulders and abdomen, making sure to be careful with his injury. He wrapped the towel around his waist, and after stepping towards the other section of the bathroom he was glad that Jeremiah had gone to sleep instead of waiting for him to get back.

One quick glance in the mirror told him everything. He wasn’t covered in grime and sweat, but he knew that the look in his eyes sent the clear message of something being off. He shook his head as he reached into the cabinet closest to him, pulling out supplies to dress his injury with.

_“What happened out there?”_

_“I.. I fell on a car.”_

_“A car?! What?!”_

_“It’s fine, it’s fine.. Actually it’s not. I broke at least one rib.”_

_“..Come here.”_

Bruce had only fallen on a car once, but it was something he didn’t want to repeat. He finished dressing his wound and carefully pressed a new bandage over it, then pulled a gray shirt that he’d already put on the counter over himself. He slipped on a pair of boxers and a pair of black sweats that he usually slept in.

He left the bathroom, hitting the light switch as he walked out. He dropped his towel in the hamper right outside: a problem for tomorrow.

He glanced around the cave, sighing softly. He glanced as his armor on the table, feeling the familiar burning in his throat and eyes.

Keep it together. Keep yourself together.

He turned slowly, shoulders dropping entirely as he began to walk out of the cave. He shut the door as softly as he could, and as he walked up the stairs he made a poor attempt at meditation. He shook his head to himself once he reached his father’s old office, and after closing the entrance he decided he would have to drink some tea to help calm down before he could even think about sleep.

He felt like he was moving in slow-motion while his mind couldn’t sit still for even a second.

Kids. They were just kids.

He rubbed his eyes. No, he couldn’t break now. He wouldn’t.

He pushed the door to the kitchen open, and for a split second his mind and body were one again. He saw someone at the counter with their head down, but after he registered who it was he returned to his previous state.

He stepped around the kitchen silently, going about his usual routine for making tea. As the water boiled, he looked over at the person.

Bright red hair, all swept to one side. His glasses were resting on the counter, folded and placed within arm’s length. He was wearing a dark green dress shirt, one that Bruce had bought for him because it “brought out the colors of his eyes.”

Bruce finished making his tea and sat next to the man at the counter. He watched his shoulders rise and fall for a moment before laying a hand on him to shake him gently. “Jeremiah..”

A soft groan came from the redhead, who shifted and slowly lifted his head. Bruce felt that familiar thumping in his heart: seeing Jeremiah without his glasses on still reminded him of Jerome.

“Mm… Bruce..” Jeremiah mumbled softly. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and slipping on his glasses. He gave a soft hum, reaching up and running a hand through Bruce’s hair in its natural state. “Soft…” He tilted his head, blinking at Bruce in the dim kitchen light. “What’s wrong?”

They were kids. They were just kids.

Bruce shook his head. “It’s late. It’ll be on the news in the morning.”

Jeremiah rested his head on Bruce’s shoulder, looking up at him. “You can tell me now.”

“I don’t… no.” Bruce said.

“Are you hurt?” Jeremiah asked, pulling up Bruce’s shirt to check for new injuries that needed to be looked at. “Did people get hurt? Was it a hostage situation?”

Bruce sipped his tea. “You ask a lot of questions for someone who just woke up. Sleep after I finish my tea.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay up.” Jeremiah covered a great yawn with his hand. “I was so tired. I was tinkering around and came in here for water I think. Then I just passed out.”

“Sleep is important.” Bruce replied. “You need it.”

Jeremiah slipped Bruce’s mug out of his hands and took a sip of the tea. “You’re a master at brewing..” He trailed off, looking down, and for the first time that night Bruce realized that his hands were shaking. He nonchalantly placed them in his lap, looking away.

He felt Jeremiah’s hand on top of his. “Darling..”

Jeremiah took Bruce’s hands into his own, squeezing them gently. “Did you save people tonight?”

Bruce looked down at their hands, then nodded silently.

Jeremiah bumped their foreheads together lightly, giving Bruce’s hands another squeeze. “Then you did what you set out to do. You did everything you could. Whatever happened.. you can’t blame yourself, Bruce. You can’t put everything that happens in this city on yourself. You can’t carry the weight of a million people by yourself.”

Bruce looked into Jeremiah’s eyes, and he let out a soft breath. “I.. I couldn’t save everyone.”

“It’s alright, Bruce. Not everyone can be saved.”

“I..” Bruce’s shoulders fell, and he shook his head as he looked away. “Tonight was..” His voice came out shaky, and he felt his throat burn.

He felt Jeremiah wrap his arms around him, holding him tightly. “You’re safe, Bruce. You’re safe.”

Bruce could hardly care less about himself. All he could think about was the kids. The kids who were now at the station. The kids rushed to the hospital. The kids. _The kids._

***

He couldn’t remember how he got into bed, whether Jeremiah managed to pick him up or whether he’d gone up with him and just forgot, but suddenly he realized he was laying down, facefirst on his pillow.

He turned his head, shifting his body to a more comfortable position. He slowly opened his eyes, looking around his room sleepily. The first thing he noticed was Jeremiah sitting on his side of the bed, apparently sketching something.

Their room was bright. Jeremiah had pulled back one of the curtains, letting in light. Bruce’s stomach growled loudly, catching Jeremiah’s attention. He looked from his sketch to Bruce.

“Afternoon, Bruce.”

Bruce let out a vague noise of confusion. He began to try to sit up, but his entire body was sore. “Afternoon?” Jeremiah was dressed in his typical semi-formal fashion.

“It is after 12.” He replied softly. “The.. what happened is all over the news.”

Bruce managed to sit up all the way, reaching over to grab his phone to look at the news. “What did the police say?”

“Jim said there were 23 known kids and four men were arrested.” Jeremiah leaned over to Bruce, continuing his sketch. He bumped his head against Bruce’s shoulder, a silent reminder that he was there if Bruce needed to talk about it.

Bruce pulled up a recording of one of many broadcasts and he began to play it.

“Our big story for today is about something that happened in the early hours of this morning. The vigilante Batman called GCPD officers around 3 AM to what many assumed was an abandoned apartment building on 7th Avenue. GCPD nevertheless went to follow the lead, only to be greeted by Batman guarding a large group of children. Captain James Gordon released this statement just a few moments ago..”

The feed cut to Jim standing outside what Bruce recognized to be the GCPD station. “This morning, the GCPD was called by the vigilante known as Batman to an abandoned building on 7th Avenue. After some of our officers reached the address, they quickly were met with… with Batman standing with a group of children, ages 6 to 17. Upon entering the building, four men were found inside, all of whom were arrested and will be charged with..” He paused to take a breath. “..sex trafficking, child pornography, child abuse, kidnapping, and statutory rape.”

Bruce tightened his grip on his phone as Jim continued. “As many of you are undoubtedly aware, over 20 cases of missing children have surfaced in the past year. Last night, Batman successfully rescued 23 kidnapped children and assisted in the apprehension of four child sex traffickers. While the GCPD does not approve of Batman’s methods in working outside of the law…” Jim cleared his throat, looking directly into the camera. “Batman, the entire city of Gotham thanks you for bringing these children home safely. That is all.”

Bruce clicked his phone off and dropped it onto the bed next to him. His throat felt tight and he shook his head, trying to clear away the images that were coming to his mind.

Months of connecting things that didn’t seem like they should connect. Hours spent running around Gotham’s worst neighborhoods.

The image of the first room came back to Bruce. It was dark, with only a small light in the center, hanging from a thin wire. The gasps that he’d heard in the room told him everything he needed to know. Bruce hadn’t interacted with children in the batsuit until then, he never had to speak to them, or be one-on-one with them until that night.

_“It’s ok, I’m not here to hurt you.”_

_“B.. Batman?”_

_“That’s right. I’m here to get you out, alright?”_

He’d turned the small light in the room on, instantly seizing up once he saw the full state of the room. His night vision didn’t nearly show how bad it was.

A hard wooden floor with dust all over it. The stench of filth and other odors Bruce didn’t care to identify.

The worst of it was the kids. Bruce could never have prepared himself to see children wearing rags being chained to the walls and floor. He carefully approached the closest child, but getting them out of the chains was a blur. Cold chains that were rusting, digging into the skin of their captives. There were condom wrappers on the floor. Lube on a small table in the corner.

Bruce had been trying to prepare himself for kidnappings. This wasn’t just kidnappings.

The first room only had four children. He managed to get them all into one corner of the room, telling them to be silent and wait for him. Someone could’ve been just outside the apartment complex, and if he sent them out they would’ve been sitting ducks.

In the next room one of the kids began to scream, and Bruce began to panic. He had no idea how to stop a normal child from screaming, but this was another level that he could hardly stop to think about. He turned on the light in this room, it was a lot brighter. He went to the screaming child first, who wasn’t even covered up all the way. She was roughly ten, and his throat burned as he looked around for something to cover her with. He quickly found what likely passed as a skirt, and he held it up to her. He had no right to touch her- he had no right to touch any of them.

She took the ‘skirt’, shaking all over, and he quickly worked on her chains, then moved onto the other children. This room was a lot smaller but had nearly twice as many as the first. He was able to get them to sit in the corner and wait for him. He remembered turning and feeling a pressure against his side.

It was one of the kids, hugging his side. His armor took most of the pressure, but he felt enough for it to get his attention.

_“You can’t leave us!”_

_“You have to stay here to stay safe. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”_

He would’ve kept them all together if it was possible, but their large number wouldn’t exactly allow for them to move throughout the building quietly. He also didn’t want them to see him take out the men responsible when they inevitably showed up.

He’d searched room after room, knocking down doors as quietly as he could. He finally reached a room on the third floor, and this one was the worst for sure.

That room was full with the last twelve children, all of whom were clearly teenagers. He’d heard a few of them say his name as he worked on freeing them. This room was in the worst state, most of the kids were half-dressed, clearly trying to cover themselves up.

A few of the kids were just sitting, staring blankly ahead. Bruce tried to busy himself with finding blankets and clothes around the room. They all began to stand up shakily. Bruce reached the last captive, kneeling next to and holding out some clothes to him.

Instead of taking the clothes, he practically collapsed against Bruce, tears streaming down his face. He was mumbling something to himself.

_“It’s over. It’s over. It’s over.”_

_“It’s cold. You’ll need these clothes.”_

_“It doesn’t matter. I’m already dead. We’re all already dead.”_

After a moment Bruce had decided to put the shirt on the kid, and the latter took the pants from him and put them on himself, but he was still in a daze.

Bruce pressed his fingers to his temples, bringing his knees up to his chest. Running up the complex stairs was a blur. Four men showed up. Four sickening, horrible atrocities that were deemed men only because of their DNA. He couldn’t remember knocking out the four pieces of scum who were responsible, he just remembered shoving them all outside before calling the GCPD and leading the kids out. He remembered his blood being on fire, his suit heating up as his skin practically burned with fury.

One of the smaller kids had collapsed before even making it out of the building, and Bruce quickly scooped him up.

_“Batman… did you stop the bad men?”_

_“I.. I did. Help is coming.”_

_“Th-they won’t hurt us any more, right?”_

_“No. You’re safe. I promise. When people start to ask you questions you don’t have to say anything. Don’t tell them anything that you don’t want to.”_

_“I just want to go home.. I just want to see mommy and daddy..”_

_“Make sure you let them know that.”_

Guarding a group of kidnapped children to keep them safe while the police arrived was something that Bruce never thought he’d have to do. He remembered the first couple cop cars come screeching to a halt in front of the complex, and they immediately called for ambulances and backup. The entire group seemed to take a collective step back towards Bruce as the cops got out of their cars. When the ambulances arrived, none of the kids moved. Instead, they were staring at the men that the cops were dragging out of the apartment.

Paramedics came out to the group, and Bruce was suddenly aware of the number of kids hiding behind him. It was the shock, the trauma, the uncertainty, but gradually the kids began to walk to the paramedics, who led them back to their ambulances. It had all felt like slow-motion, and as Bruce remembered it it still felt that way.

He’d followed the group, and set down the child he’d been holding for one of the paramedics to look at. He wanted to say something comforting, he wanted to say anything, but nothing would help. Words couldn’t fix the damage that had been done.

Bruce should’ve stayed. He should’ve gone back to the station. He should’ve snuck into the interrogation room to beat the shit out of the scum that was responsible. He should’ve made them pay.

“Bruce..”

He hastily wiped his eyes and his cheeks, not looking over at Jeremiah. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

Jeremiah set down his sketch, and Bruce felt him wrap his arms around him. “I just.. I want to help you feel alright, darling.”

Bruce turned slightly, and pushed Jeremiah away to make sure that he was looking at him. His eyes burned, and he took in a hitched breath before burying his face into his hands. “They were chained to the walls- some of them were barely covered up- there were used condoms all over the rooms-!”

He was crying. Or maybe it was sobbing, weeping, he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, the last time he’d broken down, the last time he’d felt so weak, so useless. He was supposed to be a rock: steady, unbroken, tough. He was weak, a failure. Maybe it was from unresolved tension from Jerome’s death, maybe it was from the task of protecting Gotham, maybe it was a combination of everything that had happened to him since he was 12.

Jeremiah pulled him close again, squeezing him. “Darling-”

Bruce shook his head. “They’re just kids! If I’d gathered information faster, if I’d gone to the police sooner, if I’d just been _better_ then-!”

Jeremiah gently cupped Bruce’s cheek with his hand. “Bruce.. darling.. please look at me.” Bruce lifted his head, pulling his hands away from his face, and Jeremiah gave him a sad smile as he wiped his tears away. “You did the right thing. You did what the police can’t, and they would’ve barged in there on a rescue mission, probably causing it to all go to hell. You worked your ass off for months. You saved those children, Bruce. You saved all of them.”

Bruce looked away. He’d calmed down slightly after Jeremiah spoke, but his nerves began to rise again. “It doesn’t feel like that. I feel like I’ve failed. They’re- they-”

“Darling.” Jeremiah said firmly, causing Bruce to freeze, then slowly look back over to him.

“I’m.. I’m sorry. I need to get up, I shouldn’t be acting like this.” He mumbled softly, but Jeremiah only tightened his hold on Bruce.

“Angel, listen to me.” Jeremiah said, and it finally dawned on Bruce that he was only talking so firmly to get his attention. “You have every right to be upset. You should feel angry. But you can’t direct that towards yourself. None of it was your fault. You weren’t part of the problem. You stopped it and you saved those kids. You helped innocent lives. Don’t direct your sadness or anger at yourself, Bruce. Don’t put that on yourself, you have no reason to. You have to learn to put that into the fight, put that towards the fight. Promise me that you won’t just bottle up emotions like that.”

Bruce took a moment, processing Jeremiah’s words. He was right, it wasn’t Bruce’s fault. He’d saved over 20 lives by himself. He’d helped the kids. He’d done all he could. “I promise that I’ll try.”

Jeremiah kissed Bruce softly, maybe trying to help come him down more, Bruce wasn’t sure. Jeremiah wasn’t passive by any means, but usually it was Bruce who initiated everything, who made the first move. “You can stay in here, I was going to head into the office to work on a few things.”

“I have things to do. Just let me get ready and we can take my car.” Bruce said softly, sitting up from the bed and grabbing his phone.

“I’ll be in the study.”

Bruce made his way to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked dead tired still, and after gelling back his hair and getting dressed something was… off. Something was wrong.

The apartment complex hit him again. Bruce wasn’t sure he would ever be able to look at kids the same way. Not after seeing all that. Not after the way that they all seemed to put complete and utter faith into him, even being cautious when it came to the police and EMTs.

He headed out to the study, pushing those thoughts down. The only problem was that Jeremiah was watching the news on the big flatscreen in there.

“..I mean, just who is this guy? Every witnesses says that he moves like nothing they’ve ever seen.”

“Social media’s blowing up with theories. Some people are posting about how he might be an alien or a secret government project who escaped.”

“Alien? What, you think he’ll claim he’s from Mars and shooting lasers from his eyes?”

Jeremiah rolled his eyes, having noticed that Bruce came in. “Alien. Pff. It’s not like Gotham’s Area 51 or anything.”

***

Bruce really hated paperwork. It was dumb, and whenever he had to sign something, he was so glad he could write ‘B W’ with a bunch of random squiggles after it and call it a signature. Sadly, paperwork was exactly what he needed. He needed mundane tasks to keep himself from doting on what happened. He needed stocks and numbers and statistics to appeal to his left brain to silence the right one.

He managed to get through the stupidly large stack of papers on his desk after a few hours, and he made it way down the hall to the lab where Jeremiah was.

He opened the lab door, eyes first falling upon Jeremiah, who had his back to Bruce, bent over the lab table as he worked on something. Jeremiah jumped, straightening up and looking back at Bruce. “Jeezus, Bruce, you scared me!”

“You were the one with your back to the door.” Bruce replied, stepping over to him and looking at the work table. “Do you need a break?”

Jeremiah adjusted his glasses and shook his head. “No, but if you could take a look at the board I’d appreciate it. I messed up my calculations somewhere towards the end.”

“Oh, uh, sure.” Bruce walked around the work table to the large white board in the corner. It was covered in numbers and formulas, with certain things circled. “What’s it for?”

“Water purification. I think I messed up my measurements for the radius because my calculations came up short.”

Bruce found the right section of the board and looked it over once or twice. The room was silent aside from Jeremiah tinkering with one of his many prototypes on the table. Something caught Bruce’s eye, and he looked over the entirety of the board, before grabbing a marker.

“Well, you started with centimeters over here, but you moved to decimeters without converting.” Bruce wiped off the number he was referring to, writing it correctly. “That moves your final answer one decimal place over..” He erased the tiny mark and put it in the correct place. “And that means that this is off.. So the final answer here should be..” He picked up the calculator that was on the work table, keying in the numbers. “This. And that changes the answers for the rest of the board… oh, and you forgot the exponent here, so that really changes the answers for the rest of the board.”

He put the real numbers into the calculator, wiping away the wrong answers and putting the real ones. He circled the very last answer, which had entirely changed with his new numbers, and looked over at Jeremiah. “Is this closer?”

Jeremiah gaped at the board, abandoning the prototype in favor of walking towards it and Bruce. He stared at the answer Bruce had reached, glanced at a few papers on that side of the work table, and promptly grabbed Bruce’s clean black shirt to pull him into a kiss that was much deeper than the one they’d shared that morning.

He broke it before Bruce could so much as react. He stared into Bruce’s eyes, green against hazel, and kissed him again. This time Bruce was ready, and he pressed his lips back against Jeremiah’s.

Bruce broke the kiss this time, letting out a soft breath. “What was that for?”

Jeremiah gave him a small grin. “You just saved my ass, Bruce Wayne.” He cupped Bruce’s cheek, much like how he’d done so just a few hours earlier. “God, I love you.”

Bruce laughed lightly. “It was just.. You just needed a fresh set of eyes, that’s all.”

Jeremiah kissed him again anyway, then hugged him tightly. “I’ll order all the materials that I need for testing, then we should go home. I do love the lab here, but..”

“It’s not home. I know.”

As Jeremiah ordered what he would need, it dawned on Bruce that he wasn’t sure he could go out on patrol. He still felt physically weak, and he was distracted. He wouldn’t be able to perform well out on the streets.

“Bruce?”

The CEO looked over at the engineer. “Sorry, just.. I think I’ll stay in tonight. I can’t risk something bad happening. I don’t think I’m up for crime fighting.”

Jeremiah nodded once, pushing up his glasses. “Perfect. You’ll actually get a decent amount of sleep tonight. And.. we can spend time together.”

Bruce smiled, unsure of how much sleep he would be getting that night, but the idea of attempting to teach Jeremiah how to play the piano or how to defend himself without a gun made him happy.

***

After they come home it’s only an hour or so until dinner. Alfred didn’t bring up what happened the previous night, but when Bruce mentioned that he wouldn’t be going out on patrol he seemed pleased.

“Quite right, Master B. Don't want you to get burned out, now. The city won’t fall apart without you watching over it for a night or two.”

It was still evening, and if he wasn’t going to go out on patrol, then Bruce would at least work on his gadgets. He was having probably with his stunners and needed to look at them. He headed down to the cave and began to work, opening up one stunner to figure out the problem.

He worked for an hour, and that hour turned into two, which turned into three. Bruce was just figuring out which component was wrong when he heard footsteps in the cave. “Hey.”

Jeremiah stopped behind him and looked over the work table. “Hey.. it’s.. You’ve been working this whole time?”

Bruce didn’t look up from his stunner. “Yeah. What’s up?”

“Well..” Jeremiah sat down beside him, placing a hand over Bruce’s. “We talked about spending tonight together, considering you won’t be going out into the city..”

Bruce was suddenly aware of just how close Jeremiah was, leaning towards him, squeezing his hand. He turned towards Jeremiah, who in even farther to press a kiss to Bruce’s jaw. “Oh, that.. yeah, I’d like that.”

He stood up with Jeremiah, who interlocked their fingers and threaded his other hand into Bruce’s hair as he pulled him in for a kiss.

Jeremiah hummed, tilting his head and breaking the kiss. “I’ve been thinking.. We haven’t really had much alone time in a couple weeks.. And you’ve been working your ass off..”

Bruce gazed at him. He saw it all over his face, the way that he was looking at him. The way that he was squeezing Bruce’s hand and running his hand through his hair. The way that he was giving him that nervous smile.

Bruce couldn’t say no. Not to Jeremiah. Never to Jeremiah.

So he responded by kissing him roughly, moving his free hand down to Jeremiah’s waist.

***

He should’ve said no.

He should’ve stepped away from Jeremiah, he should’ve made up an excuse that he was too tired, or too busy with his stunners, or that they should do something else together instead.

But he didn’t.

It was a blur after they finished. Bruce got up to go to the bathroom to get something to clean the two of them off with. Jeremiah’s hair was entirely messed up, glasses miraculously still on his face. He said something to Bruce as Bruce cleaned him off, but Bruce didn’t hear him.

“Darling.”

Bruce looked up immediately, running the cloth across Jeremiah’s abdomen. “Yes?”

Jeremiah pushed himself up on his elbows, then he sat up all the way. “I asked if you wanted.. It’s not that late.”

Bruce’s heart began to pound, and he knew what he should say, he knew that he could let say what he wanted to and Jeremiah would be fine it.

“Give me 15 minutes.”

***

Jeremiah tugged on Bruce’s hand when he sat up, mumbling something about how they’ll take a shower in the morning and that the sheets need to be washed away. Bruce reluctantly laid down beside him, and he pulled the covers over both of them despite feeling like his skin was on fire.

The sinking feeling in his stomach didn’t go away when Jeremiah snuggled him after setting his glasses on the table on his side of the bed. Bruce closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing and his pulse. He wasn’t sure how he felt.

He moved to turn off the light, and after settling back down with Jeremiah, he tried to take an assessment of his state.

He felt tired, no, exhausted. His throat burned as Jeremiah laid his head on his chest and wrapped himself around him. He felt disgusting.

“Love you, Bruce.”

He felt alone.

“Love you, Miah.”

Jeremiah fell asleep after only a few seconds. That usually happened after sex: they snuggled, Jeremiah fell asleep first, and Bruce was only awake for a handful of minutes longer before physical exhaustion made him pass out.

Bruce was exhausted. His head was pounding, his mind was racing. He felt hot, like he was sick with a fever. He actually felt sick, his stomach felt like it was in a continuous drop.

He felt wrong. He had no reason to be upset. The feelings from that morning suddenly came flooding back to him. He couldn’t work fast enough to save those kids sooner.He couldn’t build his own gadgets properly. He couldn’t save the city from chaos, he couldn’t even be a halfway decent boyfriend.

And he was fucking tearing up about all of it after just having two rounds of sex.

_You really think that he actually loves you? You’re a fucking spoiled brat who can’t move past an alley. You have nothing to offer him. The only things that you can give someone are money and a home, and he already had both of those things. He’s just taking pity on you because of the grant and job that you offered him. He’s just pretending to love you because it gets him sex!_

Bruce carefully sat up as to not wake Jeremiah, and he stepped over to his dresser to pull out some workout clothes. He could tell that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, not in the state that he was in.

He was down in the cave within a handful of minute, gloves on as he pounded away at a sturdy punching bag he’d put down there.

_First it was Selina, now Jeremiah. Why did you trust Selina so many times? She was just using you. Maybe she cared about you a little bit, but she probably just wanted to keep you around for favors or money._

Bruce began to pant softly, putting more and more force behind his punches.

_Why should you be upset over anything? You have everything. You have things that most people can’t even dream about. You should be glad that Jeremiah is taking pity on you and pretending to care. You’re a selfish brat. You don’t deserve what he’s given you._

His breath quickened. He felt his stomach drop as his throat began to burn again.

_You’ve fired Alfred twice and he’s still around. He takes pity on you, too. He knows that you’re a fucking mess by yourself. He’s only around because he swore to your parents that he would protect you._

He punched harder. His lungs began to burn as his breathing became more audible.

_Jim still thinks of you as that scared kid in the alley. You know that he hates Batman. When he finds out it’s you he’s going to lose his mind and send your ass to Blackgate, or maybe even Arkham. You don’t have a place at the GCPD, and you never will. Once people finally have enough of you they’ll drop you without a word, and you’ll be the rich orphan kid who has nothing except money to keep him company. You’ve always been alone, and you always will be alone!_

Bruce suddenly struck the bag with his elbow and entirely stopped his movements, pressing his forehead against the bag. He tried to calm his breathing, remember the training that he’d had before he met Ra’s al Ghul. He felt something his hit hair and he looked up. The bag now had a small split at its top, and sand had hit him.

He scrubbed his face with his gloved hand, not surprised to find it wet, and not just from sweat. He threw the gloves into the corner and made his way to the work table where his stunners were. He picked up the one he’d been working on, and his hands were trembling. Hell, he was trembling.

He shook his head. He had a stunner problem to fix.

***

He must’ve passed out eventually, because suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. He lifted his head and blinked hard, coming face to face with Jeremiah.

“Bruce Wayne, I swear, you’re going to kill me someday.” Jeremiah said softly, leaning forward to kiss Bruce’s forehead. “I was worried sick about you. I called and texted you five times before I realized your phone was still in our room.”

“I’m sorry.” Bruce felt nauseated. “I.. I went out for a run this morning, and I just came here to try to finish the problem with my stunners. I must’ve passed out.”

“You.. are you feeling alright, Bruce?” Jeremiah pushed back Bruce’s hair, feeling his forehead. “You look really pale.”

“I’m fine. Maybe a little cold, but I’m fine. What time is it?”

“Just past 8. Alfred already made breakfast.”

Bruce looked at his stunners. “I’m not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten in over 12 hours.”

“I had something this morning after my run.”

“Did you?”

An awkward silence fell between them, and Jeremiah reached over to put his hand on Bruce’s thigh. Bruce jumped ever so slightly, and Jeremiah pulled his hand back. “Are you lying to me, Bruce?”

“I’m..” Bruce trailed off, mentally going through the past few days. Today was.. Today was the day. “I just always get down this time of year.” God, he really hoped that was it. That had to be it, right? That’s why he was upset, that’s why he was freaking out. It had been 7 years. 7 whole years.

Jeremiah nodded after a moment, and Bruce hoped that he was remembering what day it was, too. “You want to visit them?”

“I do.”

***

Bruce knew he was kidding himself when he chalked his recent thought processes up to the day. He decided to go see them by himself, dressed in his best. He felt worse and worse as he drove closer to the city. He’d been so wrapped up in Batman- he’d been so wrapped up in _himself_ \- that he’d totally forgotten what day it was. This was the first year that he hadn’t woken up and instantly remembered what day it was.

He wished they were with him. They would know what to do, they would know how to help. But they weren’t. Bruce was alone.

He shut the door of his car as gently as he could, holding the flowers tightly to his chest. It was silent, all he heard was the distant sounds of city traffic and the steady snow hitting the ground.

How could he forget? He’d been so focused on putting himself first, making himself a priority. He was a terrible son. What child could forget the day that they lost their parents?

He made his way through the cemetery, head bowed against the cold and the snowy winds. He didn’t even have to look where he was going, he’d come so often that he’d memorized the location of half of the tombstones there.

He stopped exactly where he wanted, and turned to the two names and inscriptions that were on the ground in front of him. He took a shaky breath.

“Hey, mom. Hi, dad.”

He gazed down at their headstones. “I.. wow.”

There was silence all across the cemetery. Bruce hastily cleared his throat, then placed the flowers on the ground between the two stones. “Alfred still makes me go to those dumb fundraisers that I hate. And Lucius still talks my ear off about forensics when I stop by to talk to him. Bet you didn’t know that he’s a great forensics expert, dad. ...Or.. maybe you did..”

Bruce cleared his throat, rubbing his eye. “I.. I miss you guys. I wish you were still here.” He took in a shaky breath. “I.. I’ve tried to be a good son, I’ve tried and tried. I thought I finally found my place, I thought I finally understood who I’m supposed to be.. and now I don’t know. Everyone’s counting on me, everyone needs me for.. for _something_. I don’t know if I can carry that all by myself.”

He let out a soft laugh, the few warm tears slipping down his face a stark contrast to the frigid air. “I’m.. I’m sorry. I’ve tried to be a good man, a good CEO. I know you didn’t want me to go down this path, I know you wanted me to focus on school and go to college and save Gotham the legal way.. but I didn’t. I can’t even be a vigilante correctly. I killed a man, I got wasted and fired Alfred twice. I can’t even make good decisions for Wayne Enterprises.”

He began to shake, and not just from the sudden wind that was hitting his back. He wiped his eyes, trying his best to keep himself together. He felt like he was falling apart, like the ground was going to swallow him up at any second.

“I was so selfish that I almost forgot what day it was. I wasn’t even thinking about you guys..”

He took in a shaky breath, and after a moment of silence he was suddenly aware of someone close to him.

“Mr. Wayne..”

Bruce blinked, caught off guard by the voice. He cleared his throat hastily and wiped his eyes again before looking over at the person standing a few yards away. “Mr. Cobblepott.”

The slighter man was also wrapped up in dark winter clothes, holding a bouquet of flowers. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“It’s a public place, Mr. Cobblepott.” Bruce replied.

Oswald stepped towards him. It was so odd to think that this man was someone who Bruce had fought on more than one occasion. Penguin shot at Batman, sent thugs after him. But in that moment, they were two men who considered the other an acquaintance.

“I.. expected more people to be here today.” Oswald said, looking at the headstones. “I’m sorry that it’s just you.”

“People forget and move on.” Bruce said softly. “I’m not surprised. I’m.. the quiet brings me peace.”

“Have you been restless recently?” Oswald asked. “I don’t mean to pry, but.. I know that Gotham is your home, as well as mine.. Do you feel like something bad is going to happen? With the odd state that the city is in and everything..”

He wasn’t wrong. There was an odd peace that had fallen upon Gotham after Jerome died. Sure, villains like Oz were running around, the criminal underworld up for grabs, but nothing catastrophic had happened as of late. “I.. maybe. I’ve just seen so much chaos for the past 7 years.. Gotham’s seen so much change in 7 years.. I’m not sure.”

“I think we all fell into that pattern of accepting the insanity that greeted the city every day.” Oz looked up at him. “But now that that insanity is stalled.. It doesn’t feel right.”

He took a lily from his bouquet and placed it next to the flowers Bruce had brought. “It might be foolish to think, but your parents aren’t gone, Bruce. In those moments when you feel alone, when everything feels cold and you feel like you’re surrounded by emptiness, you just need to close your eyes, be still, and just feel because I can tell you for a fact that they’re there with you, trying to help you, trying to ease your pain, lift your woes. I’m in my 30s and it’s a miracle that I’m still hanging on sometimes. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be in your position. So young and thrust into a position of power..” He shook his head. “I know that I need people to lean on to help carry the weight. Don’t carry it all by yourself, Bruce. You have people that care about you that would do anything for you, you know that.”

Bruce gazed at his parents’ names for a few seconds. He couldn’t believe it. Oz’s words had comforted him slightly. “Thank you, Oswald. I’ll.. I’ll let you go.” He glanced at the bouquet. “You’re off to see your parents?”

“I am. And after that.. Well, who knows?”

***  
When he got home he didn’t announce himself. He didn’t say anything to Alfred, didn’t bother calling for Jeremiah. He was just so tired, so stupidly tired.

He fell back onto his bed. His whole body ached, he felt like the ground was going to swallow him up again. He tried to push the feelings from the previous night to the back of his mind, tried to forget what he and Jeremiah had done. He was in what he was pretty sure was a mental downward spiral, and he wanted to get out, but how could he?

He supposed he had chosen the truth over happiness all those years ago. He was going crazy. Or maybe he was just sad, he didn’t know. Years of pushing everything down, swallowing his feelings to put other people first. Visiting his parents again truly reminded him of his own loneliness. He thought he’d felt it the previous night in bed with Jeremiah, but maybe that was just anger towards himself. Or maybe emotions didn’t really need labels in Bruce’s current state.

He gazed up at the ceiling of his room. What was he supposed to do? Confront Jeremiah? Or could Bruce just hold on to that fake story, the fake idea that Jeremiah actually cared about him?

He had to go on patrol that night. He couldn’t stay in the house anymore. Gotham needed him. He needed to get out to the city. He needed to-

The partially closed door was pushed open, but Bruce didn’t move from his position in bed. “Bruce?”

He didn’t respond. He wasn’t ready to face Jeremiah yet, not yet. He could hold on to the illusion for another day or two, maybe even a week. He felt Jeremiah sit down on his side of the bed. “Bruce… I think we need to talk about… things..”

“If you’re here to breakup with me then just get it over with and don’t bother trying to make it mushy.” Bruce grumbled, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly angry.

“What? Breakup with you?” Jeremiah asked, his voice raising.

“Don’t lie to me anymore!” Bruce sat up and practically glared at him. Jeremiah visibly winced, startled by the outburst. He wasn’t sure if he’d seen Bruce so angry ever before. Jeremiah wasn’t the best at being social, but he saw anger and despair across Bruce’s face. What happened?

“Lie?” Had he lied? Bruce knew about his past, what happened, his childhood. Yeah, not his greatest moments, but he thought they’d moved past that.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Jeremiah. I could fire you for sleeping with a superior in order to gain funding for your projects!” Bruce snapped.

Jeremiah felt his heart in his chest. “W-What?” Bruce thought he was cheating on him? “Bruce, what-”

“You never even cared about me.” Bruce looked away and laughed lightly, but it was empty. Bruce looked… he looked empty. “You just took your opportunity to get more money for your projects. To say that you were dating the famous _Bruce. Wayne._ ” He accented his own name coldly, but Jeremiah barely heard it through his own thoughts.

“Bruce I’m not-”

“Just admit that you don’t care!” Bruce raised his voice again as he looked over at him, and he had the same look he had back on the stage with Jerome all those months ago: panic. “Admit that you’ve been using me for- for money and sex.”

Jeremiah froze entirely. He couldn’t even bother trying to say something. He couldn’t form any sounds correctly. He couldn’t think correctly, so he ended up staring at Bruce, mind racing to find something to do. Something to say.

Bruce shook his head, most likely at himself, as he got up off the bed. “I was such an idiot, I can’t believe it.. I actually thought that you loved me.”

Jeremiah reached out and grabbed Bruce’s wrist, his brain working again. He suddenly felt like he was going to cry. “I do love you, Bruce!” How long had Bruce thought this? What it something that Jeremiah did? Was it something Bruce heard? “I love you so much.. please sit down..?” He gently tugged on his arm.

Bruce looked back at him, his expression entirely blank. He didn’t make any moves to sit down, but at least Jeremiah had his attention.

“Bruce, I have no idea where you got this idea from.” Jeremiah said, rubbing his eye with his free hand. “I.. I love you so much.. I can’t say anything to express it well enough. I can’t do anything to express it well enough. I’m so sorry that you- that what I’ve done makes you think I don’t care. I’m so sorry, Bruce. But I can’t let you end what we have due to such.. Such asinine ideas about me in your head! Please.. Please talk to me.. I would never even think about using you.”

“I’m a vulnerable young man. You’re a brilliant scientist who can get under people’s skin and get them to do things for you.” Bruce muttered. “Everyone else has used me.. I’m not surprised that you are, too.”

“You know I’m not like them.” Jeremiah replied. He couldn’t lose Bruce. Not when they had it so good. Not when Bruce was the greatest man he knew. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “I know that.. I know I’m not always.. the greatest person. I’m not always a good person. I know I probably don’t show you enough affection. I know I don’t deserve someone like you. I don’t love you because of your money, Bruce. I don’t love you because you gave me a job. We’re not friends because I take pity on you. We’re friends because..”

Jeremiah gently tugged on Bruce’s arm again, and this time he sat down on their bed. Bruce didn’t look angry anymore. “We’re friends because we have a connection.” He slid his hand down to Bruce’s hand, and he squeezed it. “We’re friends because we’re survivors. I fell in love with you because I saw through your numbers. I saw through your bank account. I saw you. I love you because you’re brilliant. You’re brave and courageous, infuriatingly so at times. You put everyone else first. You’re kind and understanding, you know right and wrong. I’m.. I’m so sorry if I haven’t made any of that clear to you in the time that we’ve been together.”

Bruce didn’t speak. He lowered his gaze, looking down at their hands, but that meant that Jeremiah had gotten through to him, so he continued. “I don’t how how you got the idea that I’m just using you.. I don’t know if it was from me, or if you’d heard some stupid rumor, or..”

Bruce squeezed his hand as he looked up at him. “I.. I didn’t know you really thought all of that.. Or.. maybe I thought I didn’t.”

“You.. you weren’t upset because of your parents, were you.. You were upset because of this.”

“I felt.. I feel alone.” Bruce said softly. “You love me.. I was.. I think I still am convinced that you don’t. I don’t want to feel like this. I want to be happy. You have made me happy. Happier than I ever thought I could be.. But it.. it can’t be fixed so easily.”

“I know, but we can keep talking about it.” Jeremiah replied. “You have such dark thoughts, Bruce. I wish I could take them all away, take all your pain away, but I’m not going to pretend that I can. All I can do is try my best to make you feel loved, because you are loved, Bruce. And you’re the most important person in the world to me. I would never want to use you for anything.”

“I.. I know..” Bruce looked from Jeremiah to their hands again. “I just.. I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m probably broken or something.”

Jeremiah leaned forward and kissed Bruce’s forehead before he pulled him into a hug. “You’re not broken.. And even if you are, then I’m broken, too. We can be broken together, if you’d like to look at it that way.”

Bruce pulled himself close to Jeremiah. “The thing with the kids.. God, it’s got me all fucked up. I couldn’t sleep last night at all. I only got a handful of hours. I shouldn’t have lied, I just didn’t want you to worry.”

Jeremiah dropped his head slightly. “Of course I’m going to worry about you. You run across rooftops and fight guys with guns. How can I not worry? And speaking of running across rooftops..” He pulled away to look Bruce in the eyes. “..You know what I’m going to say.”

Bruce huffed. “We are _not_ fighting after what just happened.”

“I’m not saying you should quit, but-”

“I don’t need time off, Jeremiah.” Bruce pulled away from him, shaking his head. “That’s what got me into this mess in the _first_ place.”

Jeremiah was suddenly utterly confused. Bruce was so.. so frustrating! Why couldn’t he just say what he meant to say? “What are you talking about?”

Bruce wrapped his arms around himself. “Last.. last night I didn’t.. I was freaked out about having sex. I didn’t.. I didn’t want to say anything. I probably should’ve. I just wanted-”

Jeremiah felt his heart drop. Oh, God, the kids. He hadn’t even thought about the kids! “Bruce.. Oh, God, Bruce, you should’ve..” Jeremiah reached up, putting a hand on Bruce’s arm lightly. “You.. you _could’ve_ said something. You know I wouldn’t have been mad, you know I wouldn’t have gotten upset..”

Bruce shook his head. “I.. I didn’t know that. The way you looked at me.. I thought you didn’t care what had happened the other night. That’s why I was upset. That’s why I thought you were using me.. I thought you remembered but you didn’t care. I thought you didn’t care about what I was dealing with.”

Jeremiah watched Bruce wipe his face as he looked down, and he knew he was crying. “I.. I wasn’t thinking. I just thought with all your stress.. All the work.. I was just trying to make you not think about it for a night. I just wanted you to feel good.. To feel happy.”

“I know that now. Please don’t feel guilty about it.” Bruce said, looking up at him. “It’s not your fault. I should’ve stopped you. I should’ve told you earlier. I should’ve said I was upset.”

Jeremiah wasn’t sure what he could say next, he wasn’t sure if anything would help, so he wrapped an arm around Bruce and held him close. They stayed like that for a few minutes in silence.

“If you can promise to tell me when I’m being an asshole then I think we’ve made progress.” Jeremiah said suddenly, reaching up and brushing Bruce’s cheek with the back of his hand. “And it’ll be many times, I’m sure.”

“If you can promise to tell me when I’m being utterly stupid then I think we’ve made progress.” Bruce replied, and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Jeremiah’s lips. “And it’ll be more often than you’d think.”

“My knight..”

“My prince..”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow.. I'm really bad at writing angst aren't I.. oops.  
> Thanks so much for reading!! I was going to add a spicy scene at the end of this but I decided it wouldn't fit at all with what happened, even if I included a time jump, it just didn't feel right for this fic. I haven't abandoned my other work, don't worry. Hopefully I can tackle that next? I'm bad at finding time to write, lots of stuff going on in my life lol. As always, comments or questions etc. are always welcome! I have a handful of Gotham prompts that I've gathered over the past couple weeks, but requests are open of course!


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